From the Night's Plutonian Shore
by Eden Alice Poe
Summary: Edgar's raven was notorious for it's mysterious origins. As for the Titan we've come to know... Raven's origins shall finally be brought to light. As we make our way through this Titan's murky past, much shall be revealed about the empath, and even more, shall be understood. (Also, come celebrate 10 yrs of TT with me!) Favs, follows, and thoughtful reviews are appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

The Titans entered the living room, feeling dejected after losing such a simple fight to the HIVE Five. Sure, the wannabe criminals failed to get away with any of the merchandise, but they weren't apprehended at the scene either.

Losing that fight, at the same spot where they had lost before when under Mother Mae-Eye's spell, had brought back memories for each Titan. Memories that they would rather forget.

For Starfire, it had been the feeling of nearly losing her friends to the motherly villain. Along with the fact that the HIVE were almost always involved with Slade's schemes. No doubt, this would mean Robin would return to one of his obsessive moods again.

For Beast Boy, it had been the embarrassment that Mae-Eye had brought on during the first fight. He couldn't help but also feel anger for being tricked into thinking that the witch had been his mother. The pain of losing his parents had been brought back full force after the incident, and though it was calmer now, Beast Boy still felt the sting.

That same sting was felt for Robin and Cyborg, Starfire as well. Having all lost their mothers, or worse, both parents, it bonded them all in a way that no one would ever understand, unless they too had felt the love of a parent ripped suddenly from their world.

This was pain that Raven could never understand. She never felt a father's love before, was unable to even know of her mother's affections until she could properly control her own emotions. Even then, after she had adequate control, it had been too late to establish that emotional connection to her birth mother.

Sure, Raven had had Azar, but the priestess was always in control of that 'love' throughout Raven's childhood. It wasn't the same.

In this respect, many times her teammates wondered whether or not it would have been better to be in Raven's position. 'Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all' was how the saying went. But how true is it, when the sting of losing a parent's love would never be compared to the pain of having never known that love, of being alone all of one's life?

Over the years they had known Raven, her teammates had tried piecing together her past. Trying to understand what made Raven the way she was.

But in order for them to truly understand, they would have to go further back than just her childhood, or lack thereof.

It was a journey to the deep past, to long before the idea of heroes had even been a concept for the world the Titans lived in.

...

As she snatched the purse from the older woman, Angela ran. Faster than she ever had for her track team, faster than anyone would ever run, even for a purse full of promise.

As she ducked behind the dumpster in the alleyway, she failed to notice which alley she had ducked into.

It was Crime Alley, the same spot where Bruce Wayne's parents had been taken from him, right before his eyes.

'The kid's inherited all those funds anyways,' Angela thought bitterly, finally aware of her surroundings, 'Wayne Enterprises has been waiting for him this whole time, while kids like me have to suffer through the day, try to make ends meet. Then again, the 'rents did give me a choice...'

It was then that Angela remembered that fateful night. When she made the ultimate decision that sent her world spiraling out of control...

"You can just head straight up to your room! If you think you have anything to complain about, I'll give something to-!" "Aaron! That's enough, she's going!" "Obviously she doesn't appreciate all we've done for her! And if she won't appreciate it, then we need to take it away from her!"

"Like I care what you do anymore," Angela whispered harshly, pushing away her violet-dyed locks from her face and attempting to wipe away tears. She shut the door to her room and promptly locked it. Her stomach began to growl as she packed her backpack, dumping out all those useless school assignments and putting in clothes and essentials to last her a week.

'Better get used to not getting any supper, might be awhile before I reach Gotham. But maybe if I push myself, I can make it all the way to New York... Nah, too many kids from Blüdhaven make their way there. Every time there's a runaway incident, the cops almost automatically send out those stupid milk ads to the Big Apple. Better play it close to the chest and head to Gotham, they'll never expect it.'

Angela slung the heavy bag over her shoulder, adjusting the straps so they'd be snug. She stepped up carefully to the window sill, readying herself for the two-story free fall that she'd have to take, the free fall that would be necessary for her first step to freedom...

Sitting in Crime Alley now, the events of that night had faded away into nothingness for Angela. She didn't dwell on her past in Blüdhaven any more, it wasn't like there was anything waiting for her there.

She surveyed the contents of the woman's purse; a few credit and debit cards, some cash, mints and gum, the usual amount of make-up, stray jewelry, a few IDs, and finally, photos of family and friends- which Angela carelessly, and somewhat spitefully, threw away. 'Not a total waste,' Angela thought to herself, 'Enough to tide me over till I can pay for some food, maybe I can sell some of the other stuff.'

She made her way down the rest of the alleyway. It started raining yet again, washing away the latest police chalk lines from the pavement. Angela remembered reading something in a newspaper about Bruce Wayne inheriting control of Wayne Enterprises, that it had coincided with the anniversary of his parents deaths. Something was said about him becoming a bit of a recluse the past few months.

Not that it mattered to Angela, but strange things were happening in Gotham. And everyday seemed even more dangerous than the last. She had a vague suspicion that Wayne would somehow be at the center of it all, but then again, Angela's suspicions usually led her into more trouble than they were worth.

A prime example was her recent run-in with the Church of Blood.

The cult had been fairly new to Blüdhaven, and it primarily targeted freshmen and sophomores at her school. Angela had been looking for something different from her father's boring sermons and preachings every sunday. She wanted something to help her rebel against him. And the Church of Blood had been the perfect answer.

At first, it seemed to be another extension of some little known religion. Something that would be of no serious consequence to put faith in.

It was the Church that convinced her to leave Blüdhaven, to runaway to Gotham, and ultimately, to participate in that hellish ritual, appealing to a literal demon in disguise.

What had lead to her life spiraling out like that? Boredom, maybe? Typical teen angst?

It didn't really matter anymore. It was done. She had been the bride of the devil- how's that for 'getting back' at dear ol' daddy dearest?- and was facing the consequences for trying to 'leave the Church' so soon after.

It wasn't so much leaving as it was running away again. She was avoiding all of the Church's boroughs, where they had the most influence, where she knew 'members' would recognize her and try to bring her back to Brother Sebastian.

If there was anything she feared more than that devil she had been forced into 'marriage' with, it was Sebastian Blood. He had an aura of influence that was instantly felt as soon as you entered a room with him. He made you want to follow him, however blindly it was. For a long time, Angela had been happy to follow him, but as soon as the harsh reality of what the Church had planned for her came crashing down, she wanted absolutely none of it.

Even now, as the rain calmed and she exited the alleyway, Angela felt a cold shiver reach down her spine. She hated remembering that night, the ceremony. Those last moments of innocence and faith she had placed in Blood and his followers. That handsome man entering from that infernal gateway to hell. Her wanting to believe those pale, blue eyes, those boyishly blonde locks. Her hopes dashed as the demon began to show his true colors, his true intent.

Angela shook her head to clear it as she quickened her pace down the street. Her once beautifully dyed locks were fading into indigo as the rain was shaken away, much akin to how a wet dog shakes his pelt. Tears formed again in her eyes. She barreled past people, accidentally bumping into a man with a briefcase.

"Sorry," she mumbled as she dragged on.

She had found out not too long after that she was pregnant. She couldn't imagine how that thing would ever be compatible to a human's biology, but stranger things were said to have happened in the Church of Blood, so it wasn't as big of a surprise for Angela.

It was a shock, though. Only sixteen, and all those things that her father had threatened her with, all those awful things he promised would happen if she ever ran away or joined a cult or whatever else her hormonal brain could cook up. It all came true. The satanic worship, the awful hunger, the fear of living in the streets each day, being so unsure of what the night would bring. It all came crashing down on her, and yet there was no way he was ever going to be able to give her the classic 'I told you so' speech.

Now all that was left for Angela, was for her to make that final decision on what direction she wanted her life to take. So much shame had been building inside her the past few days. Shame and guilt. She felt very few realistic options for her or this... child she was carrying. Not options she could live with, at any rate.

No, even if she didn't want to believe it, her subconscious had already come to a decision. One that she'd have to pray would be forgiven somehow, by someone.

...

Notes: Raven is my fav character. Probably of all time, but I can't be sure yet XD When I learned that she had a much darker history than what was hinted at in the animated series, I couldn't resist- as so many others have failed to resist- trying to connect her comic origins with that of the animated series. This is the result. A blend of what's given to you on wikipedia & artistic license taken by me. Hopefully, even though I tried to gloss over many of the details- don't want this to be too mature- this is a good base to 'get the ball rolling'. The focus of this fic will be more so on Raven's childhood (or lack of) in Azarath & her time leading up to the Titans. I might reference BtSaIB/ that fic will reference this one- but it won't be necessary for a reader to read either one to understand-. This is really going to end up being my personal head-canon, but who knows? Maybe you'll agree with my logic ;)  
BTW, did you guys know, 10 yrs ago today (as of this posting) was the first time TT aired on CN? Be sure to watch '**Final Exam**'. **Celebrate 10 yrs of Titans!** D Get those feels & have an awesome time! No matter what your reason for liking TT. Today is a day to celebrate it!

As always, I hope you'll take the time to help me improve as a writer, or even simply stop by to say you've enjoyed my work so far.


	2. Chapter 2

"Just trust me. If you knew anything about the day of my birth, you'd know there's nothing to celebrate."

Those words rang in Robin's head more than once during the past year. So much had happened after that day. From the major battle trying to save the universe from Trigon's wrath, to the much more minor fight with the Brotherhood of Evil; forming international Titans Towers and teams to work globally; not to mention the little bumps the team faced, well, as a team. He had finally found the spine to ask Starfire out, they had been an item for little over four months.

Beast Boy tried, on several occasions, to ask Raven out. She turned him down, saying that he needed to be sure that he wasn't asking her simply because he had lost Terra for a second time.

BB's pestering became less frequent as Raven's seventeenth birthday approached. In fact, all the Titans had taken to bothering the empath a lot less. There was something about that foreboding day, something that still made Raven uncomfortable, and the Titans were willing to give her as much space as she needed until she resolved to find out what it was.

That morning, Robin decided to take the chance and confront her about it.

To his surprise, he got an answer from her.

"That first year the Titans formed," Raven sighed, watching the city wake as the sun began it's ascent over the bay, "when no one bothered to ask me about my birthday till it had long since passed... I felt.. almost normal. For once, no one cared that we were all one year closer to Armageddon. No one was glaring daggers at me for simply being alive. Everyone acted like it was just another day to get to work or to relax. It almost made me forget, made me really hopeful. But at the same time, it was the last birthday for me, because the next one was going to be the end, or at least the beginning of the end. And then Beast Boy came along... and you all wanted to celebrate...

"No one had ever wanted to celebrate my birthday. If anything, it was a day of mourning for the people of Azarath. Even my own mother...

"Starfire's been dropping these hints that she wants to throw me another party. All week, each one of you has said something about a party, about celebrating... And I guess I've only been hesitating because the idea is still so new to me. That there are people who care about me, and who are happy that I'm alive." Raven shed a tear, but wiped it away as quickly as it had come. "Thank you."

"For what?" Robin asked, a bit surprised. "For being there," Raven smiled, "For helping me."

...

Angela glanced nervously around the pharmacy. She knew she'd get caught, there was no way anyone in their right mind would believe a story like hers. It was too innocent for Gotham, too-

"Can I help you miss?" the pharmacist asked, oblivious to how shifty the teenager looked.

Oblivious... or uncaring. She couldn't be absolutely sure.

Angela jumped a little at his voice, but tried not to let it show. "Um, I have to pick up my grandmother's prescription. It's, uh," Angela struggled with the name of the drug, or rather, she pretended to struggle. She knew exactly who her killer was going to be, and exactly how she wanted this scene to play out. "Um, here, she wrote it down for me."

She handed the man the slip of paper -her hand shaking visibly- along with the doctor's forgery she had paid off some kid to sign for her.

"Ah, Kyle," he made a motion to an assistant. "Shelf 3A. Is this for a 30 day, or a 60 day prescription?" "Oh, um, 30," Angela responded, unable to believe that this man was buying her story.

"You got the money to pay for it?" "Right here." The exchange of cash for that little brown bag weighed heavily on her conscious. "Thank you, ma'am, you have a great day," the pharmacist smiled.

Angela gave back a low "Thanks, you too" as she shuffled out of the 24-hour pharmacy. She pulled her hoodie up as she walked out the door, it had begun raining yet again in Gotham.

She had done all that she felt needed to be done the days before. She had lived like she was going to drop dead any second. She wrote to everyone she could in Blüdhaven, to apologize or to make them feel ashamed. Sometimes both.

But now that the moment of reckoning was upon her, Angela was more than hesitant. She was absolutely terrified.

Terrified... but resolved.

There was no way she'd be able to have a kid at her age. Even if it wasn't half of... whatever that thing had been, she would never be able to take care of a child properly.

Her parents had taught her to respect life, though. And even though the child was probably a half-demon, it was also half-human. It had a soul, a life, and Angela wouldn't be able to live with herself if she took that.

But she also felt a responsibility for the world. As her parents had instilled a fear of evil in her, as well. She couldn't allow something so evil into the world, even if it may have been half-good. She couldn't live with herself if she new she had brought something evil into the world. She still felt racked with guilt for coercing her friends into joining the Church of Blood with her, and she didn't fully realize their intents until she had faced the consequences, full-force.

It was much too late for regret, though. Her last hour was near.

She found herself settling down near a dumpster in Crime Alley, yet again. There was a bum passed out further down the alleyway, more people shuffling by the entrance with an especially hurried pace. For whatever reason, the alleyway was haunting, even for those not in-the-know.

She opened the little brown bag, dumping its contents out, and stared down at the small orange prescription bottle in her lap.

'Daily Dosage: Two pills. To be taken at night,' Angela read, thinking sardonically how the two statements juxtaposed one another. She let a couple dozen spill out onto her hand.

'This is it. This is the end,' she thought, 'Through the lips and past the gums, look out stomach, here it comes.' She closed her eyes, about to bring the bottle and the pills in her hand up to her mouth.

A cool hand stopped her own.

Angela's eyes shot open, to see a woman in a white cloak standing there. There were several other similarly dressed figures surrounding her. Angela felt slightly cornered, yet extremely calm. It was as if their presence made the usually foreboding atmosphere of Gotham disappear.

"Child," the woman spoke at last, "You do not quite understand all that your choice implies-"

"Like hell, I do!" Angela yelled at the strange woman, angered that she had an audience, that the deed she was about to complete was being left undone. "I thought it through, I know what I'm doing!" She began crying and pulled her knees close to her chest, pills spilling onto the drenched concrete. Again, those damned locks of hair were getting in her face, but Angela welcomed the shield of indigo and black. "It's practically the only thing I've thought through in a long time." She tried to bury her face in her knees. "I don't want to do it, but it's the only thing I can do, the only thing I still have control of..."

"You feel the need to make this decision so you might be in control, or feel that you are in control. But that is not true control, merely a delusion." The woman knelt down so she was eye-level with Angela, though she refused to acknowledge the woman. "Would you like to have better control of yourself? Of your life? We will not make any choices for you, or make you feel compelled to make them. We ask simply that you put your faith in us, that we might be able to help you and the life you carry within you."

Angela finally looked up at this strange woman. She had kind, if eerie, grey eyes; her face framed by soft curls of black hair. It was shocking that one would even be able to see so much of her face, given the dim light of the street lamps and the fact that the woman still had her hood up.

She extended her hand. "Please?"

After barely a moment of thought, Angela impulsively took her hand and nodded, mostly trying to reassure herself. The woman smiled kindly, saying something that sounded like a praise or a hymn, but in a foreign tongue Angela couldn't understand.

Suddenly, the sights and sounds of Gotham washed away from the group. Angela felt extremely lightheaded afterward, nearly fainting, but found herself standing as she watched the sunrise over a city. A city she had never seen before in her life. It was unrivaled in it's beauty and a far cry from what Gotham would ever hope to achieve, spiritually and architecturally.

"W-where-? How-?"

"Welcome to Azarath, my child," the woman smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Angela's shoulder. "The Place of Peace."

...

Notes: Yay! Another chapter done! :D Special shout-out to the reviewers: krikanalo & Zurrioth. You guys were a great help! Thanks so much! ;)  
The 'through the lips' thing is supposed to be an allusion to something, I'm sure... but as far as I know, I've only heard my parents say it every time I had to take medicine as a kid. Especially when it was that really nasty cherry-flavored Tylenol or whatever :p yuck.

Did you guys know, 10 yrs ago today (as of posting this chapter) was the day '**Nevermore**' first aired? Our first Raven-centric episode... Man, I'm getting feeeels again! What are you doing still reading this? **Celebrate 10 yrs of Titans!** :D

Also, I'd love help on making some good cover-art for this fic. I've pretty much gotten a lot of my other fics' covers done, but this one is tripping me up. Any ideas for what I should make to have my fic stand out a little bit more? I'd love some thoughts on what would make a good cover for this fic! ^-^

As always, I hope you'll take the time to help me improve as a writer, or even simply stop by to say you've enjoyed my work so far.


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